


The Least I Can Do

by CC_Writes



Series: Two Halves of a Whole Idiot (In Space) [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, I will take this fic and fix the baby, Its the Force I can do what I want to, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22028725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CC_Writes/pseuds/CC_Writes
Summary: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR STAR WARS: THE RISE OF SKYWALKER, SO IF YOU HAVN'T SEEN IT YET YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.A retelling of THAT scene, you know the one.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Two Halves of a Whole Idiot (In Space) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619602
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	The Least I Can Do

**Author's Note:**

> Just warning you one more time that this is LITERALLY a retelling/exploration of the end of the film Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker. The whole thing is spoilers like I can't even write a description for it, do you know how weird that is? o.O

Everything hurts. 

  
  


It's been dulled a bit by shock, still there, but separate from him, in a way. That's probably good because if it wasn't there’d be no way he could get back up. He needs to. **He** **has to.**

Even rolling over onto his stomach feels like it takes millennia, but he pushes through. Back up there, back in the throne room, he's left her all alone with that monster. The one who had spent years manipulating everyone, everything. Him. Who'd known just what to tempt him with, just how to prey on him, to make him a monster too. That part of him might be dead now, but the actions are still there, will always be there, an impossible, incomprehensible, sea of blood on his hands. He doesn't know how to fix it. Likely, he can't. But, right now, the one person who can stop this cycle of insanity that's torn apart the Galaxy and now three generations of his family, is alone, and while he has no doubt she's strong enough to stand alone, she shouldn't have to.

He's learned that far too late hasn't he? It seems so obvious now…

There's no time for a pity party. So he climbs.

  
  
  


He's near the top when he feels it and almost loses his grip with how hard it hits him. She’s done it! Just like he knew she would, the cacophony of the presence of so many, all long gone, but not truly gone. His eyes are full of tears already at the relief of it all when in that same instance it turns to agony as something is torn away and there is a silence where there shouldn't be. 

He’s too late.

He drags himself back up over the edge, pushing up onto his feet in a single-minded numbness, eyes not straying from the figure on the ground. Not even when his leg, broken in multiple places, gives out on him only a few places in and he falls. It takes a few attempts to force himself back up. He can distantly feel the shattered bones; leg, hip, ribs, grinding against one another. Something shifts the wrong way in his abdomen and he presses his hand harder against it, struggling to keep steady against the trembling of his limbs and the slickness of the blood seeping from the wound. 

Limping, stumbling, he drags himself forward, trying to close what would normally be a short distance as quickly as possible, the pain his body is in is nothing compared to the wreck he is inside. He has to get to her. He has to. He  **has** to.

Over and over the mantra in his head until he collapses beside her.

He has to force himself up again just to reach for her, to turn her fallen form toward him. Already knowing but still hoping for a miracle. He pulls her to him, using the momentum of turning himself to bring her up as well. He silently chokes at her empty eyes, her expression utterly blank, nothing left, nothing at all, an empty shell.

  
  
  


There's a deliriously frantic moment where he actually looks around for help. For someone, anyone, who can do something. This place contains all sorts of horrible technology, capable of creating life, and keeping its twisted master alive. Surely… surely…

Of course, there is no one, only the rubble, and shattered throne. Even if there was someone, something, he knows full well he could never subject her to it. After all the suffering he’s caused, all he's done to her, it’s agony to think of doing more. 

There’s only one option. One solution. He can do it. At this moment he knows with absolute clarity that he is capable, remembering her actions and how it must be done. He can feel it as though he’s done it himself many times before.

He also understands the consequences.

He holds her tight, so tight, as he tries to will the burning in his eyes away, crushing his ugly fear and forcing it back down where it belongs. He doesn’t know how long he will have, but as he carefully arranges her, gentle as he can, he hopes… for just one moment, even one selfish second, so he would know she was alright.

It’s easier than he'd thought. He'd anticipated pain, at the very least an instinctive struggle from his body to keep what he was giving away. But, there isn’t. It feels, peaceful, like holding water, or sand, and letting it slide through your fingers. Life moves from him to her with perfect ease and leaves him feeling free and empty, light-headed, but calm, as though it’s been done thousands of times before, as though it belongs there.

And really, doesn’t it?

  
  
  


When her hand settles on his, the lightest pressure, tired, but strong. There and alive. He does cry. He embraces her in sharp contrast to before, so scared that too hard and he might undo the fragile miracle he's managed to create.

She looks at him, in a way that leaves him feeling raw and exposed, as though all he was were laid out before her for inspection. Her face lights up in surprise and recognition, like seeing someone you'd been apart from for a long long time. He is, isn't he, finally himself again, and she can finally see him.

  
  


She kisses him.

  
  


He didn’t expect that. He didn’t expect the strength of her emotions within it. Her hands hold his face and his own hold her steady, unbidden he leans closer, trying to return those same feelings, hoping he’s doing it right.

Let him have this moment. Please. He would never ask for anything else again. Just for her to know how he felt, to understand, even if he couldn't, the mess of emotions inside him. Grief and regret and he’s so sorry, for everything, all he's done, apologies for being too weak, too afraid to take her hand. To acknowledge the horrible mistakes he'd made. How lost he feels, even now, as to how they might be undone…

And when they part, and she holds her hand softly to his face and gazes at him, he can tell that she knows. She does. She may not have the answers, but she does know.

For the first time in so very long, he smiles, and he laughs.

  
  


…

  
  


…

  
  


It’s dark. A gentle, comforting dark. Not the cold hateful dark of the Sith, but the warm safe darkness of sleep. 

Ah… When exactly...had he died?

...It was so sudden… like switching off a light…

Dimly, he thinks, he’s glad it happened that way, so she hadn't had to see him suffer and fade slowly. Selfishly, he’s glad he hadn't had to see the pain and sadness on her face when she'd realized he was leaving her…he might have done something stupid.

…

…

He was ready. He would join the force, submit to it's will, let his body fade back into it. She wouldn't have to bury him then… she wouldn't be tempted to do something stupid…

…

…

Nothing’s happening? Or had it already? Was it no different than being alive? He'd thought…

... Someone is touching him, he can’t feel it (he can’t feel anything actually) but he still knows they are. That there’s a hand gently touching his forehead, brushing his hair out of his face, with a familiarity that would have made his heart ache, were it still beating…

_ Mom _ …?

He'd felt it when she'd died, moments before Kylo Ren had died, how she'd used up all of her tremendous strength to drag her idiot son back to reality… but somehow… she'd waited for him…

_ I'm ready to go home… _

He feels her laugh at that. He'd missed it, hadn't realized how much… he's been so stupid…

_ You were. _ Felt rather than heard. She "sounds" amused.  _ I was always ready to bring you home. No matter what. That's just what mothers do. You wait for your kids to stop being idiots and then you help them pick up the pieces. I'm sure you'll understand someday. _

...Wait…what does that mean? He’s dead. He'd given what life he'd had left to Rey...he'd given her everything it had been possible to give. It had been the very least he could do… Did he fail? Did he made a mistake?! Was she-?!

_ Stop. _ His mother chides, he can remember her face when she scolded him as a child, exasperated, waiting for him to stop his theatrics,  _ You're working yourself up over nothing _ . 

But…

_ I did come to get you. I always will. But, it seems it's too early. _

What?

_ But I'm dead… _

_ You are.  _ She’s smiling, he can tell,  _ but it seems it's not that simple. You gave yourself to the will of the force. To join with it. With us. _

He had.

_ That means following that will. Your father would call it conniving.  _

Yes, he would. 

...He misses him…

_ I know. You know what else he would say? _

A lot of things probably, most not suitable for children.

His mother laughs. He can feel it now, really feel, her lovingly kiss his forehead.

_ I will always be here waiting for you, but when you truly want to fix something, you don't get to take the easy way out. It will be hard, but remember-  _

_ … _

_ … _

_ … _

  
  


_ \- I love you, Ben. _

  
  
  


END.

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this little emotional journey/ character piece/ my first Star Wars Fic! And why yes, that IS a hook for a follow up at the end there. 83c 
> 
> A sequel is coming and yes it multi-chaptered (because I have a problem) and for anyone who's not read my work before they may be slow to come out but the chapters themselves tend to be at LEAST 30 pages, usually more, (again, because I have a problem) so hopefully that will make up for it. 
> 
> Your feedback is super helpful and gives me creative fuel so I would love to know what you thought! Also, if you want to check out my artwork or even just say hello, feel free to stop by my art tumblr! Here--> http://cc-sketchbook.tumblr.com
> 
> See you guys next time! ~ Much love, CC


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